He sought out her clit. He made a small o with his lips and used it to suck her sweet button in and out of his mouth. “Ohh, mmmmm,” she moaned. He...nursed on her clit, as if it was a smooth wet nipple.“Mmmm,” he replied hoarsely, pressing her foot hard against his cock. The musky smells of her body and the leather were strongest here between her thighs. He could feel his balls tightening as he continued to rub her foot against his cock.“Lick me, baby, eat me!” she moaned. And then, “Baby, oh,. He chuckled, looking back down at his magazine. He doubted he'd get much reading done, but that was OK. What was important was the ritual. He was here, on the anniversary, give or take, of her death. It was Amy Day. She was in charge.The stranger who silently slipped into the bench across from Craig was NOT Amy. It took him a moment to reassure himself of this. After all, who else would be sitting down unannounced? He wasn't sure what he would do if an undead, or, well, dead, Amy showed up one. More

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